Match
by GirlquinndreameR
Summary: "You want me to...?" "Match me with someone." Renge was getting into more than what she bargained for when it came to Kyouya's request. But they've been friends for years, where was the harm in helping him? She's about to find out.
1. Match: Equal

Match

An Ouran High School Host Club fanfiction

Ootori Kyouya / Houshakuji Renge

A/N: Apparently, under stress at work, I get inspired to write a 3-part Kyouya/Renge. Sure, just let things happen, I guess. This was quite an exercise, seeing as most of my stories were written in 3rd-person Kyouya POV. Even now, I still struggle with grasping what an older Renge would be, so I hope I didn't lose her. I'm still trying to find ways to write in her "Medusa hair".

* * *

Match: Equal

When Renge received a call from her former-high-school-crush-turned-friend, she was more than happy to make her way to Central Tokyo to meet with him for lunch. What he asked of her, though, completely surprised her. "You want me to…?"

"Match me with someone."

Before she realized it, she released a long string of laughter that rang through the restaurant. The lunchtime occupants of the cafe all glanced over to their small table, wondering what caused such a commotion. Once they realized that the beautiful, yet extremely loud woman was laughing in hysterics, they looked away to avoid eye-contact, chalking it up to her just being crazy.

"Renge…" he adjusted his rimless glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, as they gleamed opaque.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. "You just shocked me, that's all. I mean, do you know who you are? You are Ootori Kyouya, one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. One of the youngest intensivists this country has ever seen, shareholder to some of the biggest companies on the planet. Rich, cool, smart, incredibly good looking-."

"And far too busy to socialize and sift through those who are just after my success," he finished, taking a bite of the greens on his plate.

"Hmm…" Renge tilted her head thoughtfully to the left. "That is true…" The world of the rich, the world they both grew up in, was a tricky one to navigate. Associate with the right people. Be careful who you trust. Keep things close to the chest, but always say enough to appease the public. Always have a trump card. Never, ever let your guard down. That also was true in the case of dating and marriage; the lower income bracket had it so easy. She leaned over to her large tote which sat on the right side of her feet. "Good thing I carry these around everywhere." She pulled out a thin green folder, which held paper packets together with a paperclip. She handed the top sheet to him while keeping the rest of the packet on the empty tablespace next to her fork. "This," she pointed to the paper she handed him after taking a sip of her seltzer water, "is all the legal-liability stuff. In a nutshell, the agreement is good for six months, with 50% of payment due when contract is turned in, the other 50% the first day of month three. After that, you are free to renew your contract or not. Also, it covers things like how we can't guarantee intimacy or anything like that. We run a date matching service, not a brothel!"

Kyouya's eyes skimmed over the sheet of paper. " 'For the duration of the contract, the client is also entitled to advice regarding mannerisms, appearance and overall impression for successful dating'...?"

"Oh! Part of the pricing! The consultant, which would be me in this case, could give you dating advice, go clothes shopping with you if you need to, etcetera."

"I see…"

"You can read it over if you want, give it to your legal team, and scan it back to me."

"No need," Kyouya pulled out a pen from his inner pocket and signed and dated the bottom of the contract. He handed it back to her and she stuck it underneath the pile. As she did so, he pulled out his phone, opened an app, typed vigorously for a few seconds, then placed his phone back in his pocket.

Her phone binged.

"There," he told her. "The 50% has been wired. This should go without saying, but I hope you would keep this account private and out of your partner's advertisements or reality show?"

"Not that she needs the ratings, but are you sure?" Renge chimed. "Your face would be wonderful on television." When she received a silent, opaque lens glare from the other side of the table, she smiled and shrugged. "Alright, alright…" she pulled out a pen and began to fill out the questionnaire profile.

Ootori Kyouya. Male. 180cm tall.

"Date of Birth?"

"November 22nd."

"Blood type?"

"AB."

Renge continued to fill out information she already knew. Twenty-six years old. Intensive care doctor at Tokyo Municipal Hospital in Central Tokyo. "And now the fun part. What do you look for in a woman? Physical things first, like height, ethnicity, body type, things like that."

"Height… without heels, perhaps 175cm or lower. Ethnicity is irrelevant. Body type… so long as she takes care of herself and is within a healthy weight range, I suppose it won't matter."

Renge wrote all these requests down. They were a little vague, she had to admit. "You don't seem very specific on physicality. Well, what about internal aspects? Do you want her aspirations to be domestic or business-oriented?"

"I suppose it doesn't matter."

Renge's expression fell. That wasn't helpful. "Well, if she was working, would you want her in the medical field?"

"It seems trivial. Similarities would be nice, but so would some opposing aspects."

Renge's eyebrow twitched. Who knew the Shadow King was indecisive when it came to the opposite sex? "Do you have any idea what you want?" she asked, her attention now turning to the bleu cheese sprinkled steak salad in front of her.

"I never really paid any mind to it."

Again, true, Renge had to admit. This was a man of noble birth and enterprise. Women had been falling at his feet, throwing themselves at him since high school. She would see it as she performed her host manager duties. Hell, she was one of those women once upon a time. That was, until a natural-type young man lifted her spirits and heart… and then, she turned out to be a girl. Just my luck, Renge sighed. But the Host Club was different. That was fantasy, this was reality.

Back to the matter at hand, which was this. Kyouya's dating criteria was nothing short of vague and unhelpful. "Hmmm, you know what? I'll look through my profiles and set you up with someone."

"Thank you."

"And observe you."

The fork in his hand paused as it made its way to his mouth. "Excuse me?"

"That's part of my service, Kyouya. Give dating advice when needed."

"I don't think-."

"Be honest!" she insisted. "When was the last time you dated someone? Not just a random date to never speak to again, but someone you went out with at least three times before calling it quits?"

He stared at her. She watched his grey eyes on her, as if calculating his response.

"One year? Two…?" She was met with more silence. Wait, really? "...Three?"

"Last woman I dated, I was 21."

Renge's mouth dropped. "Are you serious? Five years since-. But-!" He must have been pulling her leg, she thought. A physically perfect specimen standing before her has not been out with a woman for that long?

"I was in the middle of my third year in college," he explained. "We dated for about three months but it was nothing at all serious. So we parted ways with nothing but well wishes."

Renge pursed her lips together. She couldn't believe it. Then again, didn't he say so himself? He was too busy; his time has been occupied with studying, work and networking since he was in high school. He asked for help, which was such a rare gesture from him. "Leave it to me," she smiled. "I'll find you the perfect person."

"Please take care of me," Kyouya said casually, a playful smirk on his face.

* * *

Wrong. Wrong. All of this was wrong. Renge hid her frown from behind the large menu as it sat propped up in front of her on a white linen table.

She sat at a booth four tables away from him, trying to stay out of his date's view.

Nakamura Natsume. Twenty-five years old. An physical rehabilitation doctor based out of Minato. Graduated from St. Teresa's All-Girls School, then breezed through medical school as if it was a walk in the park.

Kyouya smiled at Natsume. Renge narrowed her eyes.

When the matching company's head and Renge's college friend, Azusa Kumiko, insisted to Renge that Nakamura was a good choice for him, she couldn't help but agree. Young, ambitious, and a rising star in her field. And yet, the moment she and Kyouya began exchanging words, Renge knew it wasn't going to work. They were too… similar. Plus, there was that very obvious behavior Kyouya was doing…

"Hey, Renge. What are you doing here?"

Renge looked behind her to come face to face with a set of identical faces. They would have been mirror images of each other, except the hairstyles: one with spiked dark black hair, the other with naturally ginger hair which reached down to his ears. Her eyes widened. "Hikaru! Kaoru! What are you doing here?"

"We were meeting with the photographer for our upcoming catalog," Kaoru volunteered.

"But now, back to the previous question…" Hikaru reverted back to the question.

"What are you doing here?" they both looked at her suspiciously.

"Uh, well, I, um…" Renge didn't realize her vision was darting back and forth between Kyouya and them. Shoot! They caught her in the middle of work. And not just any work, but work for Kyouya.

Simultaneously, both twins craned their neck to the direction she was trying hard not to look towards, but obviously, she was failing to hide. "Hey… isn't that…?"

"Kyouya…"

"And he's on…?"

"A date?" Hikaru exclaimed.

"Shhhh!" Renge hissed through her teeth. "Keep your voices down, my goodness!" Before she had a chance to shoo them away, they both told her to scoot over, simultaneously taking a picture of the date unfolding before them, and then sending it out.

Within ten minutes time, Renge was joined with four new persons in her booth. The original members of the Host Club all shared her booth, much to her utter dismay.

"Ooooh! That lady's trifle over there looks delicious!"

"Aah."

"What is she wearing?"

"When was the last time he was on a date, anyway?"

"He's on a date! Bravo! Stupendous! But how come he never told me?! I thought we were family! Brothers!"

"He probably didn't tell you because of how you're reacting now, Tamaki."

Renge's head was swimming as all the voices around her grew louder and louder. This could not be happening. Kyouya specifically requested to keep his accounts private! But their voices started rising and she was 10-seconds away from throwing them out of her booth, screaming. Suddenly, she could see Kyouya stand up from his table and walk towards them. Everyone seemed to simmer down at this.

To say Kyouya was unamused… well, the funny thing was, Renge realized, was that his face was completely expressionless. She couldn't tell what she was thinking. "What are you all doing here?" Kyouya looked around the table.

"For the record," Renge exclaimed, "I was not a part of any of this!" She watched as he glanced at her, judging the situation, weighing out whether she was telling the truth or not. When he turned back to the others, she let out a sigh of relief.

"Neh, Kyouya!" the tall, blond man praised, "I'm happy you're going out but I wish you told me!"

"What's to tell? I'm having dinner with someone. Which was going smoothly..." Kyouya let out a short sigh, before turning on his heels. "Honestly," he muttered as he returned to his table. "Sorry for the interruption…"

"It's alright," Natsume briefly glanced over her shoulder. Renge ducked fully behind her menu. "Who are they?"

"... Nobody." Kyouya briefly glared at the occupants at the table.

" 'Nobody'?!" Tamaki cried.

"Tamaki," the other female voice chimed, "you know he's kidding."

"But, but-."

"Still gullible, huh, Tono!"

"Silence, the both of you!"

"Do you want some beer, Takeshi?"

"Thank you."

"Uuurgh, I think I'm going to be sick again…"

"Oh! Haruhi, do you need help?"

"You can't go in the womens restroom!"

"Still sick, huh?"

"Unfortunately. I tried spoiling her with something nice, like ootoro-."

"You tried to give her sashimi, Tono? Wow, you're an idiot."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, Hikaru's right. Pregnant women have to limit their fish, and pretty much not eat anything raw."

"I did read that somewhere, didn't I?"

The chaos reigned for another few minutes, before one by one, they all left. Haruhi was feeling nauseous and decided to go home; Tamaki obediently followed. The twins grew bored quickly, and left for the night. After Mori and Hani finished their nightcaps, they thanked Renge for the invite (though she didn't invite them in the first place), and then they left.

The next person to leave was Natsume. She must have said something to Kyouya, because his demeanor suddenly turned stiff and cold, enough that it felt like a bucket of ice was thrown down Renge's back. Renge watched as the young woman stood from her seat and walked away, without even a backwards glance to Kyouya. What… happened?

Kyouya's shoulders rose and fell with a large breath. He took a sip of his drink, and watched her through the glass as Renge left her booth and joined him on the seat Natsume once occupied. "So?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, I don't think it will work out with her."

"What happened?"

"She's...not suited for me. Or my life."

Renge tilted her head to the side. What could that have possibly meant? Did she say something to him that he didn't agree with? Politically? It couldn't have been religious… he seemed too science-minded for that. Then again, Renge tried to remember what he told her for religious preference; it said "N/A". Ok, then…

"Oh, well. On to a more pressing matter," she shifted subject, "To you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. What the heck were you doing back there?"

Kyouya narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't notice? The closed eyes as you talk, then look off to the distance, the way you held things. Kyouya, we're not in the music room anymore. You were speaking to a woman one-on-one," Renge explained. "This is different from hosting! You're not putting yourself on display for the visual pleasure of a woman's imagination. Dates involve connecting with someone! On a much more deeper level. Honestly, how on earth did you date that other woman for three months?"

"We mostly spent time together during breaks and then study hall," he answered matter of factly.

"That's not dating! That's a study partner!" Renge was suddenly struck with an idea. "Alright, that's it! You and I are going out on some dates."

Kyouya lifted his eyebrows slightly.

"We're going on a few dates for the next few weeks. Dinner, amusement parks, movies, etcetera, and I will train you to be the most wonderful, dateable boyfriend!" Renge then lifted her head to the side, and released her signature laugh in the middle of the candlelit restaurant.

Kyouya stared at her straight-faced. If she took a hard look at him, she would have noticed the amused twinkle in his grey eyes. Kyouya raised his cup to his lips once again.

* * *

Renge instructed for him to meet her at a restaurant out at the south edge of Shinagawa. It was a small establishment, tucked in the very back of a hotel.

It had been a whole week since she observed his date, and for that entire week, she agonized over what she was going to wear. Which, Renge found, was so strange. It wasn't as if she didn't have her pick of beautiful dresses, it wasn't as if she had never been on a date. All she knew was that days leading prior to it, she spent her office breaks arranging for beautician appointments and stylists consults. After hours of dress selections and makeup trials, she had decided on a fit and flare dark pink dress made of silk, with off the shoulder caps sleeves, her hair pulled back to a side ponytail, and gold pumps and jewelry. All this fussing for Kyouya? Her friend?

The chauffeur dropped her off and she walked to her destination: past the lobby, up the short stairs to the mezzanine level in the left wing, and there sat the restaurant. It was small, with only about a dozen tables, all draped in dark burgundy cloth, and dimly lit with clusters of votive candles on each table.

She spotted Kyouya sitting at a table in the middle of the dining space, sitting calmly, phone in hand. She could feel her breath shallow just a bit, noting how well the dark navy pinstripe suit fit him. When she approached the four-top square table, he looked up, realizing her arrival. "Good evening," he greeted.

"Hello," she replied. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

"Not at all," he stood and circled the table.

"The seat near you," she said before he had a chance to reach the chair directly opposite his. "This is a date, not a negotiation. It's easier to get to know each other if we are closer together."

"Noted," and Kyouya pulled out the seat that sat perpendicular to his. Once she sat, he assisted in scooting her chair in before returning to his own. He briefly glanced at his phone before placing it facedown on the tabletop, just left of his knife. "You look very nice," he complimented.

"Thank you," she smiled. She reached for the menu and opened it up, quickly skimming over the entrees for today.

They were soon joined by the waiter, asking for their order. "The tuna, please," she ordered. "And a Manhattan."

"The scallops. And a glass of scotch. Neat." Kyouya handed the waiter his menu, Renge did the same. When the waiter left, Kyouya turned his attention back to Renge. "Why did you choose this place?"

"I've eaten here before, and I like it. It's quaint, intimate…" she admitted. "Besides, it's far enough and small enough so that we may not run into any distractions."

"Mmm," Kyouya's eyes turned to the short round glass the waiter had just set in front of him. He waited until the waiter to place down both of their drinks and leave before he continued his conversation. "So, how's work?"

Renge narrowed her eyes. "Kyouya…" she frowned, "your inexperience is showing." She reached for her drink and sipped.

Kyouya brought his alcohol drink to his lips. "What do you mean?"

" 'How's work'? Come on, Kyouya, I'm not your friend right now, I'm your date. Your blind date. Don't ask me about how work was or how my day was. You want to get to know me!"

Kyouya's eyes widened slightly.

"You want to trigger a conversation where a woman talks about herself on a personal level. Women like talking about themselves! We have had a history of being seen and not heard. Now in this modern era, it is acceptable to hear and see us simultaneously-."

"I feel as if you are making that up."

"Well, it sounds legitimate!" Renge insisted. "Anyway, go on! Engage me!"

Kyouya blinked for a moment, placing his glass down. It was as if the wheels in his head were turning, trying to weigh out types of questions in his head. "So, would you please tell me something about yourself?"

Renge couldn't help but feel a little disappojnted. That was all he came up with? Well, it's a start. "I'm 25 years old, graduated from Keio Business School and I work for my father's distribution company. The Houshakuji Corporation covers different industries, from pharmeuticals to entertainment. And that's the division I work in. I'm the vice-president of the division in charge of entertainment distributions: products, mobile games, both foreign and local."

"That's very impressive. However, I could find any of that with a simple web search." He leaned forward, elbow on the tabletop, and cradled his chin in his hand. "I'd like for you to tell me something about yourself. Something no one else knows."

Renge's eyes widened. That was unexpected.

"If you'd like, I could tell you something about myself. It seems only fair."

"Um…" Renge nodded. "Alright."

Kyouya took another sip before he began. "As I'm sure you're aware, I am the third son in my family. And as the third son, I was expected to support my family, and not stray from that. Everything I were to do, was for their benefit. Stay within my borders, as it were.

"And then, in middle school, my father told me that Suou's only son was to begin attending Ouran. And how beneficial it would be for the family if I were to associate with him."

Renge didn't hide the shock from her face. She knew they all met at Ouran, but no one ever really knew the history of how the friendships which resulted in the Host Club started.

"So, I became friends with him, followed his eccentric suggestions and flights of fancy…" Kyouya admitted, and the corner of his lip curled up for a moment, as if remembering something amusing from the past. "But he was the one who made me realized that I had given up on myself before I even tried. That my mentality of 'staying within the lines', as it were, were idiotic."

"You really don't think you would have achieved as much as you did if it wasn't for Tamaki?" Renge quietly asked before she realized she opened her mouth.

"That would be interesting, wouldn't it?"

That wasn't really confirmation, Renge mused. But then again, that really wasn't denial, either. "So…" Seeing that Kyouya had shared something so personal, it only seem fair to do the same, right? She racked her brain, trying to think. She began her habit of thinking: reaching her hand up to her hair, brushing her bangs away from her forehead.

Her hair…

Her pulse quickened a little bit, thinking of a memory from the past. "I guess, this fact is as good as any…" she shrugged and took a sip of her own drink. "Two years ago, when I was just named vice-president, our division was sent out to Los Angeles. We were to meet with the American counterparts for distributing this new mobile game. We went, and I thought everything went well. Then, when the meeting was over, I heard the president say that the Americans thought it was weird that the CEO's teenage daughter was tagging along for trips. Can you believe that? Teenage daughter! I was 23 years old already. I've been working for the company for two years by then!

"I don't need to tell you how absolutely livid I was!" Renge shrugged. "Daddy said to not worry, and that I should never change myself for anybody!" She could clearly see her father behind his desk, a deep frown set on his face that day when they reported back to him after the trip to Japan. How he immediately dismissed the comment that insulted his daughter. "But then, I started to realize something. I was in an industry mostly dominated by men. Sure, I have the mind for it, but no one would listen to me if they're judging my outfit. When I returned to Japan, after the conversation with my father, I realized that I had to change, at least to fit into the business world. I hired a consultant for foreign businesses, so that regardless of whatever country I visited, I knew how to approach them. I even dressed a little different when it came to work. Suits and work dresses, rich and serious colors. I can still be me when I'm part-time match-making, but when I'm working for the Houshakuji Corporation, I need to be a good representation of my father's company."

Kyouya had stared at her the whole time, eyes intently looking at hers while she unfolded her memory for him. "Your father is right, though. You shouldn't have to change yourself to please others. However," he leaned back against his chair, "I understand why you did that. They'll hear you because of how you are dressed, but they will listen to you because of your mind. No one can deny that you are good at what you do."

As Renge looked at him, she didn't realize her breath was beginning to be more shallow. "Thank you…" she sheepishly replied to his compliment, feeling her face warm up. "I… I never told anyone that. The reason why I changed the way I dress."

"I'm glad you told me," he said to her, locking her in a gaze.

Renge had to remind herself to take a breath.


	2. Match : Ignite

Match

An Ouran High School Host Club fanfiction

Ootori Kyouya / Houshakuji Renge

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, RedArrow and woofyy. And woofyy, that actually didn't cross my mind, haha.

Inspiration for this chapter came from randomly reading tons of shoujo manga, I guess.

* * *

Match: Ignite

Renge scrolled through her phone calendar. Meeting, meeting, date with Kyouya, lunch with Kumiko, lunch with her father… her week was jam-packed. Most of her calendar was in the red, with barely any blank space. She absolutely must put in a yoga session somewhere on Saturday.

This whole month was nothing but go-go-go. The budget reports for the corporation was due, they were short staffed because people were staying home due to illness, and the entertainment division were prepping for the summer convention season. And on top of that, there was an influx of people asking to get matched by Kumiko's services, so Renge took on another handful of clients to help her. They were all easy matches, unlike the current doctor at the top of her list.

It had been a whole two months since Kyouya had signed his contract, and since then, they went on the occasional dates, for research purposes. He was the most comfortable at restaurants, it seemed. There, he was able to read a person, calculate them, and engage with them. Movie theaters were the worst. With forced silence, all he could do was stare at a large screen. And if the movie was a romance one, it was even worse, his attention span was out the door. A factor that she had forgotten to remember was that he would duck out of sight for a few minutes because of the occasional calls during his days off, whether it was pharmacy staff or nursing staff. Amusement parks were so-so. The last one they went to, a person fainted in front of him due to dehydration, so he jumped into doctor mode until help arrived. Which was really cool, she admitted. He looked like a hero; any woman would find it admirable and maybe even sexy.

Renge was feeling a little tired herself, a little unfocused. She entered her apartment on the 20th floor of a high rise condo building in the middle of Shibuya. As she walked through the door, she could smell the remnants of food that must have been cooked less than an hour ago. In the kitchen was a plate of some seared tuna on a bed of dark greens, covered, and placed on the counter. Chiharu must have just left. She did request to leave a few minutes early... something about picking her mom up from the airport? Renge checked her clock on the stove. 18:00. She reached for the fork on the table and took a bite of the tuna. It was good, but she wasn't feeling like eating, strangely. Still, she forced herself to pull the plate in front of her and ate as she scrolled through her inbox on her tablet, attaching files from her cloud here and there, answering emails, forwarding information for her executive assistant to have ready on her desk…

By the time she looked up, it was already ten in the evening and her salad was only half eaten. Maybe I need to have an early night, she pondered, I'll feel better.

* * *

Renge's mind felt cloudy, her body felt hot.

Oh no, she immediately knew what was happening. But still, she tried to sit up, but weakness settled into her joints and immediately laid back down. "Aya!" she called out. It was Wednesday, she was sure of that, and her housekeepers usually began at six in the morning.

A knock came to her bedroom door. "Excuse me," came Aya's familiar voice. "Yes, Miss?"

"Can you make me some porridge for breakfast?"

"Yes, Miss. Um, are you sick? Do you need me to call the doctor?"

"Please." She buried herself under her covers as Aya closed the door. Renge reached for her cellphone which she kept at her bedside. She began to text message everyone: Mie, her executive assistant, and Kumiko at the match-making agency, telling them both that she would not be working today. Within a few moments of putting her phone down, Aya reported back, informing her that the doctor would not be available until late this evening, or even tomorrow morning.

Doctor… doctor…

In Renge's hazy mind, she realized she planned a date with Kyouya for tonight. She slowly scrolled for his message box and began to text him, telling him she had to cancel and reschedule due to illness.

[Are you running a fever?] was his response.

[Yes. Think so] she typed.

[Did you call for your doctor?]

[Won't come until maybe tomorrow]

Renge placed her phone face down next to her head on the pillow. Urgh, she hated feeling like this. She rarely got sick. She was in fantastic physical condition: she ate right and exercised. That was probably why she didn't get sick a lot. But when she did, boy, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She would lie down in bed, incapacitated for days. The only times she got up was to go to the bathroom. She had closed her eyes, embracing the fog which surrounded her mind, hoping she would go to sleep. However, she grew restless within five minutes of just lying still, so she pulled out her handheld console, and began playing the newest game in her favorite series 'Uki Doki Memorial: Springtime Romance'.

The 2D character with the glasses who eerily resembled her 3D friend smiled at the player. "The cherry blossoms are a wonderful reminder of things to anticipate, yes?"

That's right, she was a 25 year old grown woman who loved playing these cheesy romance games. And she made a successful career out of it.

As the hours progressed, Renge had slipped in and out of sleep. However, sometime right before noon, she heard distant sounds coming from the front door. She knew Aya was here; she had poked her head in on the hour to make sure Renge was alright. She heard Aya's voice. But the other voice talking to her housekeeper was a male, and familiar… Renge pushed the comforter off her lap and at tortoise speed, swung her legs over the side of the bed. The conversation outside sounded a little intense, but muddled. Renge pushed herself to her feet, but immediately, the blood drained from her head and she stumbled off to the side, her hand brushing the alarm clock as it fell down, along with her. She fell on her hands and knees, and winced as the plastic alarm clock created a sharp sound as it bounced off the hardwood floor.

"Miss!" Aya's voice exclaimed and the door flew open.

Only, Aya was not standing at the open doorway, she remained a few steps back.

Renge looked up to see Kyouya standing in her bedroom doorway, door wide open. "Kyou-Kyouya…"

He knelt in front of her. "Are you alright?" he asked, followed by, "can you stand?"

"Mmm," Renge reached a hand to her nightstand to use as leverage, but she could feel her joints wobble.

Within a breath, Kyouya scooped her up in his arms, like a bride. If it was possible, Renge's body heated up more; no one had ever held her like that. He gently placed her on the bed, her back against the fluffy white pillows and pastel yellow tufted backrest. He reached for her forehead, placing his palm against it. "Aya-san, please get my bag from the entry."

"Yes, sir," within a few moments, she returned with a black leather crossbody bag. He opened up the front pocket and pulled out a small zip-up pouch. He pulled out a plastic digital thermometer, wiped it down with alcohol wipes before slipping a sterile sleeve on the thermometer and and handing it to Renge.

As Renge reached her hand inside of her clothes and tucked the thermometer under her left underarm, Kyouya took her hand in his, feeling her pulse under his index and middle fingers. "Also, Aya-san, can you please retrieve a set of new pajamas for Renge. Something light, not long sleeve. And a bowl with cold water, and a washcloth."

"Why?" Renge asked, and she watched as Aya did as he requested, all while he looked at his wristwatch while taking her pulse.

"Because you are sweating through your clothes," Kyouya informed her. Just then, the thermometer beeped and she handed it back to him. "And you are running at 38.6. You said the doctor won't be here until tomorrow?" he asked, turning his head towards Aya.

"Yes, sir."

Kyouya pulled out a small moleskin notebook from his bag, and a pen. "Are you feeling nauseous? Vomiting at all?"

Renge shook her head slowly so she wouldn't feel dizzy.

He jotted down a few items, ripped off the top sheet and handed it to Aya. "Please buy these items. Some acetaminophen for her fever, and a few of these electrolyte drinks. And these cold compress items."

"Yes, right away," she placed the washcloth and bowl on the nightstand before retrieving the list from Kyouya. "Excuse me, Miss, I'll be going." Aya exited the apartment.

Renge glanced up at Kyouya as he cleaned off the thermometer and tucked it back in its spot. She couldn't remember ever feeling this sick, this feverish, to the point where she couldn't think straight. It was only now that she realized, this was the first time a man was in her apartment. And she wasn't wearing makeup! Or proper clothing! She flushed from embarrassment.

"Renge, please take off your top so I can apply cold water to your back," he instructed as he unbuttoned his cuffs and began rolling up his sleeves.

If Renge wasn't feeling flushed, she sure was now. "Wh-wh-what? You can't-! But-!"

"Depending on how far the nearest store is, your maid could take up to 30 minutes, maybe longer. You're soaked through your current clothes, your body is burning, but if you have another idea to cool down your body from their fever, short of having you stand under a cold shower, I'd like to hear it," he looked at her matter of factly.

Renge groaned. "Are you always this mean with your patients?"

"Most of my patients are unconscious."

Renge mulled it over for a few minutes, reminding herself who she was talking to. "Fine. But turn around first."

"Of course," he did as she requested, keeping his back to her.

While she remained out of his view, Renge slowly pulled her top over her head and off her body; to her shock, she found the thick material patchy with dampness. She placed it beside her and tightly tucked her comforter under her arms, locking the quilted fabric in front of her, to keep some sort of modesty. She positioned herself to sit further up the bed, turned facing the right side of the bed, back in full view of Kyouya. "A-alright."

In her peripheral, she could see Kyouya had turned to face her, paused for a second and then reached for the washcloth in the basin. He squeezed the excess water out and then folded it so it fit in the palm of his right hand. "Excuse me," he took a seat on the bed behind her. Renge bit her bottom lip, trying to not make a sound as Kyouya's fingers touched her neck, brushing her hair out of the way and over her left shoulder. "Go ahead, lean against the headboard," he suggested. And just as she let her body fall to the right, against the padded headboard, he declared softly, "I'll begin now."

His hands were purposed and meticulous. Renge gasped slightly when the cold wet cloth hit her skin; she couldn't believe how soothing it felt. But even still, she could feel his eyes on her back, his fingertips brushing her skin; Renge buried her face in her hands, as her heartbeat thumped hard and heavy, resonating in her ears. She had never been in this kind of a position with a man before, half naked and being touched. Yes, Kyouya was a doctor. Yes, he was just being professional and helping her out. However, this was the same Kyouya she had a crush on in high school. What would her teenage-self think? She would probably have a nosebleed and explode in fits of "Moe!".

"The skin on your back, near your ribs," he interrupted her thoughts. "It's slightly more taut than the rest."

"Oh," Renge breathed. "I, uh, It's a scar. The summer before I transferred to Ouran, I was on the beach, and I slipped, scraping my back on the rocks I was sitting on." Her self-consciousness rose in her chest. "Does... does it look… bad?"

"Not at all," Kyouya answered. "The human body is a miraculous thing. Sometimes, it needs the help of human science, but sometimes, it has the power to heal all by itself," his thumb gingerly traced the two-inch line of skin on her back, before he wiped it once over with the cold cloth.

But to Renge, that patch of skin he touched, felt as if it were on fire.

She then felt Kyouya rubbing her back gently with a dry towel, making sure to touch her lightly so her skin wouldn't warm up from the friction. "I'll be back. I'm going to prepare more cold water," he said, while handing her the pajamas Aya set out.

He closed the bathroom door behind him to give her privacy. She slowly dressed while she heard him turn on the faucet, pouring out the bowl of water, refilling it, along with rinsing out the washcloth. Renge pulled the top over her head, and set the sleeveless camisole properly on her body. He knocked on the bathroom door. "Is it alright to come in?" he asked.

"Ah, um," she gave herself the once over, making sure her shirt covered her appropriately. "Y-yes."

Kyouya stepped in again and placed the bowl of fresh cold water on her nightstand. "Go ahead, lie down properly, and rest," he dipped the entire washcloth in the bowl and then wrung it out. "Aya-san should be back any minute."

Slowly, she laid back, her blanket tucked up to her chest. As soon as she settled, she watched as Kyouya folded up the washcloth, placing it on her forehead. The wet fabric immediately cooled her skin on contact. Just as she was about to let fatigue settle into her mind, she could hear his footsteps moving towards her bedroom door. Her eyes shot open, "Wait!" she called out, sitting up suddenly. But in a split second, she began to wonder. Why did she call out to him?

Before she could examine it any further, Kyouya approached her and gently placed both hands on her bare shoulders and guided her down, softly pinning her down with her back to her bed. He looked at her from behind his clear lenses, his grey eyes locked into her widened amber ones. "Rest, Renge," he said softly, replacing the washcloth on her forehead. His fingers brushed her temple as he stood back, straightened and walked out of the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

Finally alone in her room, Renge took a long, deep breath. Her body still felt very, very warm.

* * *

The rest of the day was a bit of a haze. She was pretty sure Aya had come back, given her water and electrolyte fluid every hour, food every three hours, and medicine every six hours.

Which she thought was strange, seeing as her maids' shifts were only 12-hour days, from six in the morning to six in the evening. Who kept replenishing her drinks at her bedside through the night, while she zoned in and out of sleep?

Chiharu entered her room at roughly seven in the morning, offering her some warm oatmeal and warmed nuts and preserves. "Kido-sensei called and said she will be here in an hour."

"Alright," Renge sat up in her bed. "Chiharu-san, what time did you get in?"

"The usual."

"Oh." Renge ate quietly, wondering what was happening to her memory. She hated the way the fever fogged her brain, preventing her from thinking clearly. If it wasn't Aya or Chiharu in her apartment last night… she was positive her father was in a conference in Geneva… and she didn't even tell him she was sick. So…? She continued to eat.

And right on time, the doorbell rang. Renge could hear the muffled female voices of her maid and doctor. "Miss," Chiharu knocked on her bedroom door, "Kido-sensei is here."

"Come in."

Kido, a tall studious looking woman with long black hair pulled in a ponytail, and dark navy blue scrubs, walked it with her backpack filled with equipment. "Hello, Houshakuji-san. I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier; the flu season is rough this year. But it looks like you were taken care of last night."

"Huh? Oh, well, my housekeepers are very kind. And a fr-friend came to visit me." Wait, why did she stutter?

"Is your friend or your housekeepers in the medical field?" Kido asked. "Because there were some thorough notes left for me."

It was only then when Renge noticed her doctor was holding a piece of paper in her hand. Kido handed it to her. Renge immediately recognized it as Kyouya's handwriting; she had been familiar with it since their Host Club days. On the piece of paper was a load of information: instructions for Aya, it looked like, when to administer food, drinks and medicine, and cold compresses until 7pm. After that, it looked like a log of temporal thermometer readings, pulse measurements and how much she ate and drank every two hours, followed by instructions for Chiharu to follow. Renge's eyes widened. That meant, the person who was in her apartment last night, taking care of her… "Kyouya…"

"Your friend?"

Renge looked up to her doctor's face. "Uh, yes! Ootori Kyouya."

Kido's eyes widened. "Doctor Ootori from the intensive care team at Tokyo Municipal?"

"That's him."

"Well, it looks like you were in good hands," Kido smiled. "Let's continue to take care of you."

Renge nodded, her heart and mind too cloudy to reason through what she had just found out.

* * *

Within a few days, Renge was well enough to head back to the office. Of course, she anticipated a stack of papers and emails to catch up on as soon as she entered her office.

By late afternoon, she was curled up on the couch she kept in her office, a cozy chaise she insisted to bring with her from her bedroom back in France. And because of it, she had redecorated her whole office to compliment the style, once she was promoted. The brown and boring standard office furniture was replaced with acrylic Louis XIV chairs, whiter woods and pale golds and hints of blue to match the upholstery on the antique chaise.

Renge had a stack of the entire company's quarterly budget estimates clutched in her hand. She skimmed through the names and numbers of every single company that was giving money to the Houshakuji Corporation for distribution services.

Her eyes stopped at one name. The Ootori Group.

Renge reached for her cell phone beside her and opened up the string of messages she had with Kyouya. Seeing his name caused a sense of anxiety and tightness in her chest, feelings she hadn't felt in a very long time. She could still remember his deft fingers as they grazed over her back, like feathers brushing her skin. The fact that she was topless, her modesty only preserved by her comforter, was not lost to her. Maybe it was just her, but she felt his eyes on her back, examining her, making sure he cooled every inch of her back. And when he pushed her down into her bed, forcing her to rest, the way his eyes stared down at her, it was as if they were reaching for her very soul.

Renge shook her head furiously. But… She tapped her phone onto her chin. Recalling his visit was making her blush from forehead to chest. And the fact that he stayed and cared for her all night. He probably saw it as work. She sighed.

She looked at her phone again and began typing. [Thank you for the other day.]

Within a few seconds, she received a response. [How are you feeling?]

[Better, thanks to you! I'm back at work. You worked so hard, Sensei, I owe you!]

[So long as you're alright, that's what matters.]

Renge's hands were shaking as she could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She let out a scream of frustration as she threw herself facedown on the chaise cushion.

This couldn't be happening, not again!

A knock came to the door. "Houshakuji-san," her executive assistant called through the door. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Renge projected through her hands as they covered her face. "Thank you."

And then, she sat up. Hang on. This must be what people refer to as Nightingale Syndrome, when patients fall for their caregivers! Or was that not the name for it? Either way, this wasn't real, it was fake affection. After all, doctors have oaths to care for those who need caring, to consciously do no harm, etcetera and so forth. She was a person in need of a doctor, she happened to be good friends with a doctor, and said doctor was available. That was all! Renge released her signature Ojou-sama laugh, mocking her own stupidity and easily swayed mind.

Foolish girl!, she thought, That's all it was! He is not your 2D ideal made in 3D. After this near decade of being schoolmates, and then friends, you know very well he's nothing like Miyabi! Kyouya was strategic, calculating, all wrapped into a tall, rich, handsome package of grey penetrating eyes and fair skin. Warmth and affection was not his thing. He was cool, with no fire of passion in his bones. And that's what she wanted. Fire, passion, love...

Speaking of which, Renge reminded herself to comb through Kumiko's emails when she got home. She said she found a few more prospects for Kyouya.

* * *

Renge didn't know what possessed her, but on the night of Kyouya's date, she decided to dress up too. She tried to look inconspicuous, with a dark black straight wig, thick rimmed glasses, and a dull-grey colored turtleneck with a dark blue pleated skirt. She sat quietly in a booth alone, pretending to be fully engaged in the novel in her hand, enjoying her stuffed eggplant dish.

She could see Kyouya a few tables away, sitting at a square four-top table, seated closer to his date. Kenjiro Meiko, 26 years old, daughter and second born to the Kenjiro Group, owner of high-end hotels all over Asian, the Middle East and the American West Coast. Utilizing her degree in Graphic Design and Architecture, she was in control of the Image Development department, in charge of the overall look and aesthetic to the hotel buildings and interiors. Long, dark brown hair, 170cm tall, and a marathon runner by hobby. She seemed nice.

They sat too far away for Renge to eavesdrop on their conversation, but whatever was going on, they were fully engaged with one another. Kyouya was looking at Meiko attentively, nodding, listening, responding, and… smiling. It was small, but it was there.

Renge adjusted her fake glasses higher on her nose bridge and kept her head down.

Kyouya seemed to be enjoying himself. Which was good… She had suspected long ago that he was fond of the female host back at Ouran. Whether he was in love with Haruhi, Renge wasn't sure. However, even if he was, Haruhi made her choice, and everyone carried on with their lives. Kyouya earned the success and recognition that he deserved years ago. And now, it was time for him to settle down and find his own partner in life. Someone trustworthy and caring, who could see beyond his cool exterior for the man he truly was: slightly sadistic, confident yet fiercely true and loyal, and willing to help others, even if there is no merit as a result.

Renge took a deep breath as Meiko leaned just a touch closer to Kyouya. He tilted his head towards her, gazing at her with those grey eyes. Renge took another breath.

Meiko stood alongside Kyouya and he escorted her out of the restaurant, towards the exit, still locked in conversation. Good, Renge thought, looks like their date went well. She pulled a smile to her lips.

A sudden, unwanted thought flashed through her mind, nearly choking her. Could I make him smile?

Then, she leaned forward and pressed the top of the open book to her hairline, hiding her face from view. Teardrops dotted her lap, staining her blue skirt.

* * *

April had snuck up on her before Renge realized it. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom, the weather was slightly warming up, accompanied by cool breezes…all while Renge continued to match people in new relationships, regardless what was going on in her own love life.

"Kenjiro-san is very nice," Kyouya had informed Renge after a few weeks of dating. Renge forced a smile on her lips.

A good friend would be happy for him. But she just couldn't bring herself to be. If Kenjiro Meiko was an unsightly, reprehensible human being, well, 1) she wouldn't have set him up with her in the first place, and 2) Renge wouldn't mind trying to get rid of her. However, the fact was, Kyouya said she was nice and he seemed to be enjoying their time together.

Renge wanted to slam her own head on her desk. Multiple times. Was this her fate? To fall for him multiple times through their lives, first as a teenage fixation of a 2D character, only to follow ten years later with something rooted from mutual respect and friendship? She thought she was only fixated on him because he took care of her when she was sick.

But now that she thought about it, ever since she moved to Japan, Kyouya always had been in her life. First, he was the catalyst to move across the world. Then, when her imagination and enamoured reaction came back down to Earth, she remained in his circle at the Host Club. And through the years, they remained in each others' lives. They always spent some time together if they were at the same business meetings, parties and dinners. And when Kumiko had asked her to help make a business plan for the match-making agency, Renge called Kyouya, who ended up formulating all the logistics and numbers Kumiko needed to start her business. Top it off with lunches that occurred at least once or twice a month, it was clear that he was an important presence in her life.

But it evolved to more than that, apparently. It was during a meeting, when the advertisement department was pitching their layouts for a mobile game ad (Renge couldn't remember which one it was right now), that she realized that these feeling for Kyouya were something in the making. When women "moe!"-d over men, so to speak, these women wanted to be acknowledged by them, even cherished by them. However, they were alright if the object of their affection was happy, even if it wasn't with them. With being in love, as she soon realized, was that real love and admiration was different. With real relationships, real love, there was a sense of completion with each other. As if this person was made for you. You could imagine what you would be doing with that person five, ten, twenty, fifty years later. And if that person wasn't there, the world was unbalanced. Liveable, but painful, existing as if something was missing.

Renge sighed. She wanted to go to these necessary business gatherings together. She wanted to be there when he finally took his place as CEO of the Ootori Group. And finally, and perhaps the most jarring fantasy of all, she wanted to share the breakfast table with him and however many children. The idea of him finding happiness with another woman was just painful. She had never felt like that before. Like the air in the room was completely vacuumed out, like being enveloped in a grey heavy smoke, like her limbs were moving through quicksand, drowning. And her chest physically hurt just thinking about it.

A knock came to her office door. "Houshakuji-san?" Mie, her executive assistant opened the door and bowed her head. "I will be going now."

Renge looked at her watch. Five in the afternoon. Uh-oh. She had to hurry home. "Yes," she threw her tablet and cellphone in her bag. "Thank you for today's work!"

She rushed through traffic, arriving at her apartment 10 minutes after 6. She dropped her bag on the bed and made a beeline for the walk-in closet, where tonight's outfit was hanging, ready for her.

Tonight was a dinner for the Watanuki Group, a non-profit organization in charge of social services, fundraisers and wish granting for patients in most of the hospital in Japan. It was a black tie affair, and so she immediately called in her connection to the hottest design team in Japan, Hitachiin Designs. Kaoru picked out something for her she wouldn't have picked herself: a high collar halter dress, decorated with intricate silver and pearl beading. The dress was light with layers of chiffon that cinched at her waist and then reached all the way to the floor. Up where the collar was, the dress was iridescent pearl pink which gradient down to a deep magenta close to the hem. Tiny beading lined her back, which was completely bare, and reached all the way down to just short of where the curve of her bottom started.

"Sweet but daring," Kaoru smiled when she tried it on last week.

She had followed Hikaru's advice to wear her hair up in a simple, large round bun, and keep jewelry to a minimal. "Just let the dress talk," he told her. Paired it with light makeup, strappy heels and she was out the door in an hour, heading to a ballroom out towards Odaiba.

A thought that she tried to keep at bay ebbed forward. Kyouya was going to be there.

When she arrived at the ballroom, she was hit by a sea of dark colors of black, navy, green and a some red here and there. The ballroom itself had a few seats set out with tables, along with blackjack tables, poker tables and craps tables. She was never good at gambling, but she figured it was all for a good cause, so she gave a donation in exchange for a small bag of betting chips, before she headed to the blackjack table. She placed her buy-in at two chips and the dealer handed her cards.

Renge peeked at the corners. A queen and a nine. She waved her hand over the cards, signaling that she stayed. And sure enough, when it was time to flip the cards, the dealer facing the occupants of the table had a king and a jack.

Defeated, Renge turned and immediately bumped into a familiar set of grey eyes, set into a lean, tall, handsome figure. His hair was combed off to the side in his signature part, and he was dressed in a graphite colored suit, with a chameleon-blue tie. "K-Kyouya."

"Good evening," he looked at her and added, "you look very nice."

"Thank you," she smiled. "And you look perfect."

"Thank you," he paused and then asked, "is this Kaoru and Hikaru's work?"

"Uh-huh. They know how to make a woman look good."

"Well, it's easy if the starting point looks good to begin with."

Renge felt her heart skip, but tried to suppress the joy bubbling in her chest due to his comment. Instead, she laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "What a flatterer! Oh, by the way, is Kenjiro-san here?"

He momentarily closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. About that… she's nice, but we decided to remain friends."

Renge allowed for her heart to skip two beats. "Oh? Was something wrong?"

"Although we got along, there was… something missing, so to speak," he admitted softly, scratching a spot on his chin, before allowing his hand to drop again to his side. "The search continues, I suppose."

"Y-yeah," Renge nodded, then repeated, "The search continues." They had parted after that to mingle with other guests. Which was a relief, Renge figured. She was sure if her heartbeat remained as quick as it did, her heart might break out of her chest. She had spent the better part of 30 minutes grabbing enough passing hors d'oeuvres to make a meal, all while downing enough water to wash it all down. And all the while, Kyouya was somewhere in her peripheral. Not on purpose!, she exclaimed. He was just always there…

"Hosuhakuji-san!"

Renge turned to the direction her name was called, and smiled. "Watanuki-san!" A man with a mop of shaggy black hair, dressed in a forest green suit approached her. "How are you? I haven't seen you since…?"

"Second year," he finished, "Personnel Management class. And I'm forever grateful for what you did for me then."

Renge blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, when Kaji-sensei ran after me and told me to finish my midterm."

The memory replayed in Renge's mind, causing her to laugh. "Oh yeah! When you turned in your test in thirty minutes and left thw room, I exclaimed 'Did he even finish?!' And sure enough, Sensei flipped your test over and ran out the door. I never saw him run that fast!"

"Yeah, he was all red and huffing!"

They both laughed, remembering their usually calm, short, older, portly business teacher in such a frazzled state. As Renge continued to laugh, her eyes wandered slightly, seeing Kyouya in the distance. Immediately, her laugh faded.

Kyouya was… staring at her. Staring, with his brow slightly furrowed. What… was that about?

Renge returned her attention back to her old classmate. "So, what have you been up to recently?"

At this, Watanuki gave her a toothy grin. "We'll find out in a few moments."

Just as he checked his watch, the ballroom chatter was interrupted by the voice projected over a microphone. "Excuse me," said a man on stage. He was tall, slightly hunched to the right, with shaggy grey hair and square shaped glasses, dressed in a simple black suit. "Hello, everyone and thank you all for being here. The money you have given today, along with every yen since my uncle started this organization, will go to bringing a smile on a patient's face, whether it is building a vegetable garden on a hospital's property, providing technology to a patient who is stuck indoors so they can communicate with family, funding a wish trip for a teenager, or even providing a comforting toy to a child going into surgery."

The crowd clapped. "Is that your father?" Renge asked Watanuki. He nodded.

The elder Watanuki continued. "My uncle, Watanuki Shiro, began this organization to help bring comfort to the citizens who were hospitalized in Hiroshima in late 1945 and beyond. He had dedicated his life's work to expand the organization's reach through the entire country. I helped continue his dream since 1973, and now, I believe, it is time to continue forth. As of today, I am announcing that I will step down as CEO within two years time. And my son, Watanuki Ryuusei, will carry on our mission."

Renge gasped, and then patted Ryuusei on the back in a congratulatory gesture.

"Ryuusei," he looked out into the crowd, "please join me."

Immediately, Ryuusei moved to join his father on stage. Renge clapped enthusiastically for him, along with the rest of the crowd, happy for her old friend's promotion. She was not aware of the pair of grey eyes looking at her, then to the stage.

* * *

Renge stood quietly on the patio area, adjacent off the ballroom. She had already given her congratulations to the future CEO of the Watanuki Group, and then decided to take a breather.

Was it healthy to be this stressed out at 25 years old? Many of her friends were already in high places. Heirs to some fortune, some company… but then add the fact that you were expected to get married to someone equally as achieved? Renge propped her elbows on the patio railing, cradling her chin. All this stress and she was going to get frown lines at 30. Yoga, maybe more yoga. Like that aerial kind…

Movement caught in her pheripheral again. She turned to her left to see Kyouya with two glasses of rose wine, holding one out to her. "Always offer a lady a drink," he quoted from one of their practice dates weeks ago.

Renge smiled and took it, sipping it. "Mmm." Once she realized that she liked the taste, she drank a third way down the glass.

"So, you know Watanuki-kun?"

"Yeah. We had a class together in college."

"Aa."

Renge's eyes turned away from Kyouya as she took another drink. Now what to say? Just three months ago, standing with him like this wouldn't have been a problem. Now, the silence was nerve-wrecking. She cocked her head to the right.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She glanced at him and shook her head. "No," and she turned back to the view. "It's surprisingly warm for this time of year." She leaned slightly more forward, cradling the glass in between both hands as her elbows rested on the railing in front of her. She could see in the distant view a bright, multi-colored lit bridge and ferris wheel, all six colors in the spectrum dancing on the structure. The stars were barely visible behind the clouds, but the air was mild and the lights on the city made the structures around them have a soft glow.

Then, she suddenly became aware of… something. It was barely noticable first. At first she thought it was a breeze, gently brushing her skin. Renge tilted her head ever so slightly to the left and could not believe her eyes.

Kyouya's hand was reached out to her. The back of his right index and middle finger was tracing the back of the dress, right where her bare skin showed, where the old scar was. It was gentle, soft, all at the same time warm.

"Kyouya…" his name escaped her lips in a whisper, looking at him over her shoulder.

Kyouya's eyes turned to hers and in an instant, she had forgotten how to breath. His usually cool gaze was gone. It was replaced with something darker, molten. She had never been on the receiving end of this look but she could recognize it. There was emotion, there was pain, there was heat…

And then, Kyouya blinked. Realizing what had just transpired, he pulled his hand back and took a half step away from her. "Excuse me," he apologized with a furrowed brow and dashed back into the ballroom.

Renge inhaled sharply, her limbs were shaking. _What… what did I just see?_


	3. Match: Union

Match

An Ouran High School Host Club fanfiction

Ootori Kyouya / Houshakuji Renge

A/N: Oh, wow. One whole month later in between Ch. 2 and 3. To those who reviewed, thank you so much. It reminds me that I'm not nuts and that these two crazy kids just might work.

* * *

Match: Union

Renge paid the woman at the counter and then left the cafe. She walked through the streets, heading back to her office building.

She hadn't talked to him for over a few weeks. Renge would look at her phone, think that maybe it would be a good time to text him for a lunch invite, but then second guess herself and stop. One thought back to Watanuki's announcement party and all coherent thoughts ceased. Her body flexed at the memory, tightening the muscles in her body, the breath in her chest. Renge could recall how he grazed her skin, sure yet methodical and careful. And then when he looked to her, his lips slightly parted, his eyes reaching out to her, clouded with untapped desire.

Renge shivered. What was happening? She had never known him to be a man of passion. Cool, calm, collected, yes. She sometimes laid witness to him losing his temper, but that wasn't the same thing. This was an emotion directed to a woman. To her.

Her phone binged. Renge stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, dug her phone out of her bag and glanced at it, recognizing Kumiko's email.

 _Renge-chan,_

 _Here's another woman I thought would be good for Ootori-kun. What do you think?_

 _Kumiko_

Renge opened the attachment and read the profile.

Takana Akari. 27 years old. Born overseas in Hawaii. First daughter and third child to Takana Nanjiro, Japanese diplomat. Studied Environmental Law and is working with the Japanese government for improving environmental initiatives. Likes swimming and surfing.

She seemed okay. They all seemed okay, in fact. Renge's inbox for Kyouya's prospects have piled up since it ended with Meiko. Renge felt bad. Here Kumiko was, working so hard, screening these people for Kyouya. He was Renge's client, she should have been doing this. But… she couldn't bring herself to.

She saved the file in a folder, and then placed her phone back. Just as she looked up, she saw a familiar man walking out of a nearby cafe and heading towards her. Her feet were frozen in her spot, remembering that night. His touch, his eyes…

Kyouya glanced up from his phone as he walked and did a double take. "Renge?"

"Uh… hi. Um," Renge glanced back to where he came out of. "Having lunch?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Just finished."

"Oh. Well, had I known you were on this side of town, I would have called you to join me," she lied.

"Well, I'm here for a one-day conference. It's over at the Miyako Hotel down the block. In fact," he glanced at his wrist watch. "I should head back soon."

"Oh, okay," Renge nodded. "Mail me later. Or I'll mail you."

"Yes, please. Oh. And the 6 month renewal Azusa-san sent me. I'll give that to you too," he said while absently looking back at his phone. "Well, see you soon." He began to walk pass her on the crowded sidewalk, towards his destination.

Mail him. Contract. More matches. Mail him. He was still… even after the way he looked at her like that? Like, like he wanted her? She dared to think that maybe his feelings evolved too, like he wanted her more than just a friend, or a casual lunch date. Maybe someone in this world to start a romance with. A partner in life, even! Was she just seeing things back there on that night? Was her feelings one-sided again? Was that her eternal fate, one-sided feelings? "I'm sorry, I can't!" she blurted out loud.

Kyouya stopped in his tracks and turned to her. "Sorry?"

Why, why did she talk out loud like that? "I… uh…" she swallowed the lump that was balling in her throat. "I'm sorry, please don't hate me…"

"What are you talking about?"

"The contracts, the matching," she answered. "I haven't been… setting you up with anyone."

"Because…?"

Renge looked down to the Windsor knot on his tie. She couldn't answer.

"For how long?"

"... Two months."

"Why?" his brow furrowed.

Renge opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, she just clamped her lips shut, not maintaining eye contact with him.

They stood silent, in front of one another, out in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, oblivious to the people walking by, the bikes wheeling along. Then, Kyouya turned away from her. "I have to go." And then he left, without looking back.

Renge kept her gaze in a distant stare before finally turning on her heels and walking back to her office.

She didn't know what to do. Except maybe curl up on her couch, and sit. Call someone to vent all her feelings out. That she was angry. At him. At herself. Angry at it all.

A couch… someone to listen…

Maybe she would be off work tonight.

* * *

Renge pulled her car up to a townhome, nestled in a community on the far east side of Central Tokyo. The structure was large, gated, with a large zen garden in the front, juxtaposed to the glass and wood two story building. She parked in front of the home and headed to the front door. She only waited for a few seconds after ringing the doorbell.

A tall, handsome man with blond hair and piercing violet eyes answered the door. He stepped aside to let her in. "It's good to see you, Renge. Come in. Have a seat."

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you two?" she stepped further into the house.

"Not at all," he informed her as he escorted Renge to the living room. "She's just relaxing in the office. I'll let her know you're here."

"Thank you," she sat down on the couch which sat in the middle of the living room. While she waited, she looked around her, and an automatic sense of nostalgia creeped in her brain. She felt the rosewood colored upholstery she sat on and her fingers grazed the dark wood framing on the armrest.

Did Tamaki take this couch from the music room?

Footsteps from the hallway grew louder. "Sorry to keep you waiting," came a familiar voice behind her. A woman with short, brown hair and large matching chocolate brown eyes took a seat next to her.

"I didn't wait at all," Renge smiled. "How are you doing?"

"Better," she answered. "According to my father, my mother's morning sickness lasted for a whole six months. Thank goodness I didn't go through that. It's just getting a little awkward to lie down."

"Have you started on a nursery?"

"Yeah. Tamaki wanted to make it a pink and purple fairy tale theme. It seems so extravagant. I was thinking maybe pastel yellows and purple. That would be nice."

Renge couldn't help but envy this woman a little. She seemed to have her world all together.

"Nevermind that. Renge, are you okay? When you texted me, asking to come over, I couldn't help but think something is wrong."

"What, I can't come visit you two? After all, your little one is coming in three months! After that, your world will change!" Renge insisted.

However, the lady of the house said nothing, but sat quietly and kept her hands folded.

Renge's shoulders dropped. "It's just… sitting on this couch, having Haruhi here, it's just like old time. Well, except for the obvious," motioning to Haruhi's swollen belly.

"We may be older, but the friendships we made back in school still exist."

"Do they, though?" Renge looked down to where her fingers laid on the dark rose upholstery. "Kyouya has asked me to do something for him. It seemed easy, and I agreed to it. But I can't do it anymore. And on top of that, I lied to him."

"Does he know?"

Renge nodded.

"How did he react?"

Renge shook her head.

"Hmm," Haruhi leaned back in her seat. "Well, do you know why you decided to lie?"

"Yes, but I couldn't tell him." Renge finally looked up to her confidante, a look of utter defeat on her face. "Haruhi… I'm in love with Kyouya. And I want him all to myself."

Haruhi's eyes widened for a moment, and then softened. "There's nothing wrong feeling that way."

"But he doesn't feel the same. I know that now," Renge sighed. "I'm upset with him, I'm upset with myself! Why do I keep repeating past mistakes? Why doesn't he change his view on me? I'm tired of being the only one feeling this way!" Renge flushed, her cheeks warm with frustration, anger, and sadness. Renge buried her face in her hands and groaned. She fought to keep her tears at bay but she could feel that she was about to lose that battle.

"You know, Renge, maybe it would be best that you told him how you felt."

Renge pulled her hands from her face. "What? What good will that do? He doesn't feel the same!"

"But he's your friend. Doesn't he deserve to know why you lied?" Haruhi asked. "Even after all these years, Kyouya had always held the truth to great value. Okay, sometimes he was being sneaky or manipulative with us, but he always wanted the truth. Besides, with telling him the truth, he could understand what you're going through. He wouldn't want you suffering through this alone."

"He wouldn't?"

Haruhi nodded her head. "When Kyouya cares about something, he lets us know in his own way. Never directly. But just because he never says things out loud, doesn't mean he feels any less or that his feelings are less valid."

Renge could feel something settle deep into her chest. A sense of defeat, resignation, and acceptance. Renge nodded, softly smiling. Haruhi still had the power to tell her what she needed to hear.

* * *

Renge stared at herself in the reflection of the glass elevator doors.

She had received a call two days ago from her father. He was in Switzerland for an important meeting and he couldn't fly back to Japan in time. "Please, Renge-chan, can you go and represent the Houshakuji Corporation?"

She agreed, even if the hosts were the Ootori Group. As a dutiful daughter and representative of her father's company, she would be on her best behavior. Even if she wanted to scream.

It had been at least two weeks since she and Kyouya ran into each other.

She had called in another favor from the Hitachiin twins to style her again. This time, she picked out the dress, much to the twins' surprise. "It really is a statement piece," Hikaru told her.

"It'll definitely get people's attention," Kaoru added.

People's didn't matter, she thought. She only needed one person's.

She stepped out of the elevator in all rose gold. She wore a halter, sweetheart neck sheath dress that hugged every curve of her body, every inch of fabric decorated in shiny sequins and crystals. Every movement of her body created a glimmer. The back was very low, like the previous dress the Hitachiins provided for her, but instead of completely backless, the rose gold dress had three strings of crystals draping down her back. Her hair was pulled to the side over her left shoulder, and on her face, she wore a dusty rose masquerade mask, lined with gold roping and crystals. On her feet were tall, strappy nude four inch heels.

When she arrived at the hotel ballroom, the place was already crowded with people. Men and women wearing elegant clothing, were all masked in various colors. The room itself held over five hundred people, from what Renge could judge, lit with ornate chandeliers and decorated in linens and accents of peacock greens, blues and bronze gold. She could recognize some people beyond their masks, but most of them took a little more effort to pinpoint.

The head of the Ootori Group, Yoshio, was the easiest to spot. He had the largest crowd around him. And Renge had been to enough of these parties to know that the older sons, Yuuichi and Akito, were always near their father. Kyouya always marched to his own drum, conducted his own conversations across the ballroom. And sure enough there he was, in a dark, rich purple suit, a black tie, and a black eye mask with gold roping around the outline. Another giveaway to his identity was that only the family members of the Ootori family wore the same pin, a winged gold emblem of their family crest. Kyouya wore his as a tie pin.

Renge made her way to the charity prize table, where the party was displaying the silent auction prizes. There were listed a cruise in Southeast Asia, a one week trip to Hawaii, a martial arts gi signed by the Japan Olympic Team, a spa treatment, a Piaget watch, and diamond necklace from Harry Winston.

Daddy did have a Piaget watch, but not one that was silver and black. She dropped three bid tickets in the box assigned to the watch.

"Excuse me," she heard someone say behind her. When she turned, she came face to face with a unidentified man. Based on his build, and the parts of his face that were visible, she judged he was in his mid to late 30's. But she had no clue who he was.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you here alone?"

"Yes."

"That's a shame. Someone like you really shouldn't be."

Someone like you? "No, it's quite alright," she insisted, "I'd rather stay alone." And she marched away.

That was one thing she had forgotten. When she attended these soirees with her father, she was always recognized immediately. That's Houshakuji Renge, the non-serious, flightly, headstrong daughter of the respectable Houshakuji Reynard. But now that she was dressed so maturely and her face was partially covered, no one knew who she was. Throughout the night, she had tried to approach Kyouya, but he was always preoccupied with someone. And on top of that, she was simultaneously dodging inquiries from strangers, asking who her escort was, is she a family member for a new partner, if she's single, could they buy her drinks and so forth. It was maddening, it was tiring.

It was late in the evening when she headed to the bar and drank another glass of sparkling water. She had lost sight of Kyouya again, so she decided to take a minute, hydrate, then continue on her quest. She had to get him alone, she had to talk to him.

"Hey," she heard a man's voice.

Oh my god, if she had to endure another pickup line… "Not interested-" she spun around and came face to face with a familiar person. She did a double take. "Ootori-san?"

He was similar to his younger brother. Same grey eyes, same jawline. He kept his hair parted in the other direction to Kyouya's, but textured with some pomade. He was wearing a dark burgundy suit, and a simple black eye mask. The Ootori emblem was centered to his kerchief pocket. "I didn't recognize you at first," Akito said. "You usually come here with your father."

"Unfortunately, my father could not make it."

"Yeah, I see that, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing that get-up."

Renge narrowed her eyes at him. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that since you walked into the room, over half the men have been leering at you. And all because of that dress you're wearing. If you call it a dress. That, and they don't know it's you," he scoffed.

Renge narrowed her amber eyes so much, they looked like slits. "First off, my choice of clothing is not license for men to be pigs, that's their problem, not mine. Second, can't you be unpleasant somewhere not around me?"

Akito scoffed at her again. He then turned to the bartender. "Dry martini, please." Then, he looked back to Renge. "Point taken, Houshakuji-san. But seeing as I'm waiting for a drink, I'll stay right here."

"Fine," she huffed, "you stay. I'll leave." She had only taken a few steps when she heard the older man's voice.

"He's outside, you know. Kyouya is. You've been eyeing him all evening, right?"

Renge immediately turned around to face him.

"Someone from the hospital called him, so he had to go outside to take the call. Looks like he went towards the pool," he informed her.

In all the years she has known Ootori Akito, she had always known him as a humorless, stiff and uptight individual. Top it off that he criticized Kyouya's friends, whether behind closed doors or in their earshot, and Renge always found him to be irritating. So why was he helping her? "Thank you," she said. She didn't like him, but she still had manners.

"And he noticed you as soon as you walked in," he added, before taking his drink the bartender made and walking away.

Renge turned and headed to her destination. She had walked out of the ballroom to the outside, where the open air patio led to the oversized bean-shaped pool. She walked further towards the pool deck, further away from the lights of the party. By now, the pool was empty, void of any guests. The only activity happening was coming from the lights and sounds of the party she just stepped away from.

She spotted a figure sitting on one of the lounge chairs, right next to the pool. He held his phone against his right ear, his back towards the party a few yards away. "Yes," he reiterated. "No, that would be contradictory. Correct."

Other than the phone call, it was just her and him on the pool deck.

"Alright. Thank you." Kyouya ended his call and stood up to his feet. He circled around the lounge chair, ready to head back, but then froze when he saw her standing before him.

The air around them was warm… either that, or she could feel herself blushing. Renge could see the pool lights reflect in his eyes as he looked straight at her face. "Do…" she started, "do you have a moment?"

He pocketed his phone in his inner breast pocket. "I do."

"I…" Renge took a deep breath, remembering the advice Haruhi gave her. "I'm sorry," she began. "I'm sorry I didn't match you when I said I would."

She could see him narrow his eyes through his mask. "You think I was angry at you for withholding prospects?"

"Isn't that the reason? Well, that, and I lied to you."

Kyouya inhaled deeply and slipped his hands in his pockets. "I see." He turned his gaze to the pool.

"Can…" Renge wanted to step forward to him and reached out to him, but stopped herself. "Can we go back to how things were before?" It pained her to request it. "I want you in my life still."

It seemed like he was thinking things over because he was silent for a few moments. And then, she felt the ground break beneath her when he said, "Things can't return to how they were."

She tried to muster any courage she had so she wouldn't cry. Instead, she got mad. "Hang on. I'm apologizing to you! You're supposed to accept it!"

"Do you honestly think just because you apologized, that would fix everything? That's naive."

"What do you want then?" Renge asked.

"Why did you lie in the first place?" he snapped, his tone low.

A sudden realization occurred to her in that very moment. She had never said to any man a true admittance of "I love you." She paled, and her eyes fell to his tie pin. Haruhi told her to be honest; that's what Kyouya valued. But… even still… to knowingly set herself up for hurt and failure. Because even if she did decide to tell him her feelings, and she was honest, what good will it do in the end? He didn't feel the same. It might make things awkward. They managed to build a friendship because her feelings for him as a teen weren't real. But this was different. These were real feelings about to be ripped apart.

She had been standing silent for who knows how long. Kyouya seemed to have grown impatient. "If you won't tell me, then I must return."

One step. Two step. Three steps past her.

"Wait!" Renge spun on her heels, not realizing her stiletto caught in a divet of the pool cement deck. She could feel herself losing ground.

Kyouya dove for her.

Within a few seconds, Renge felt her body submerged in chlorinated water. The shock filled her nose and eyes, and she peered around, trying to find the surface. She forced herself to relax, calm her mind, trying to find the automatic direction her body floated to; all things that float headed to the surface, she thought. She paddled her arms towards the water surface and broke through, taking in a deep breath and then coughing. She felt like she was about to cough out a lung, the chlorine burning her nostrils and throat. Kyouya quickly followed suit, almost simultaneously getting to the surface the same time she did. She could barely feel the pool's floor underneath her heels. She bobbed up and down slightly to keep afloat, her shoulders barely over the water.

She had just ruined a very expensive dress, the pool was not heated for the night, and she still hadn't repaired her friendship. She let out a scream of frustration and threw her arms down, causing a splash to re-wet Kyouya and Renge's masked faces. "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen!" she exclaimed.

Kyouya kept absolutely still, the water reaching to his chest. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"No. I'm not!" she exclaimed. "I was supposed to tell you the truth! I was supposed to fall for the sweet, misunderstood, gentle, loving, passionate soul! Not the sadistic, manipulative, calculating, scheming type! But I did, I fell! I fell for all those parts of you, but so much more. I fell for your loyalty, the part who cherishes his friends and comrades, the part who is still willing to be generous, even if there is no reward or gain. I fell for every single part of you, and look where it got me?!" Renge clasped her hands over her face, hiding it from view. She just began to sob. Renge felt helpless and tired, but she knew that admitting her feelings would mean nothing. He would tell her he's sorry, they'll remain friends, and… and…

Renge froze when she felt Kyouya's hand gently grip her wrists. He pulled them away from her face so he could get a clear view of her. Renge watched as he controlled his body so that he sank into the water slightly, level with her. And slowly, to Renge's surprise, he moved closer to her. Their foreheads touched briefly as he paused, hesitated, waiting for her to say something, and then tilted his head towards hers, making their lips brush one another. Renge was too shocked to breathe or move. He teased her lips again with his own, touching and then shortly pulling back. He waited for a brief moment, gauging her reaction, waiting for a protest. With no protest in sight or heard, he pressed his lips against hers.

Kyouya. Kissing her. She was kissing Ootori Kyouya. The very thought almost made her mind implode. She had to force herself to close her eyes. She was far too surprised what was happening to her: her heart was beating erratically towards his body, her breath was shallow, her chest and face were heating up in a blush, and her stomach felt like it was getting wrung together. He tilted his head from left to right, his nose brushing with hers, masks scratching one another. He was only away from her lips for a moment before he was kissing her again, and she was feeling her body's natural reaction to him all over again.

She was struggling to keep her body still in the water. Kyouya kept his grip on her wrists, so she tried to use that as a type of leverage. However, Renge could feel herself floating back slightly, so she tried to angle her hips and kick towards him. Her fidgeting broke their lips apart, much to her dismay. Kyouya tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him, his lips adorning her right cheek and jawline with kisses. Renge gasped, his name barely escaping her lips, as she felt his lips creep lower to the soft skin of her neck.

And then, she felt one of his hands make their way into her hair. Kyouya's hand found the end of the ribbon which kept her mask on and pulled; her mask fell off to the side and onto the water. Renge's self-consciousness kicked in momentarily: was her makeup dripping? If it was, it didn't seem to phase Kyouya. He grabbed his own mask by the nose piece and yanked it up and over his head, messing up his wet hair even further. The mask hit the water with a loud clap and a small splash due to the force Kyouya used to pull his mask off.

Ripples surrounded her as Kyouya's hands moved from her upper back to the lower part of her waist, under the water's surface. He pressed her to him and he began kissing her again, feverish and hungry. For her. Renge unconsciously wrapped both arms around his neck and shoulders, her fingertips clawing on his back, fingertips rubbing into the back of his head.

She was losing air. Her mind was spinning, falling, her body warming up from head to toe, her stomach coiling tighter. This was not her first kiss, but this wasn't something she would ever forget in this lifetime or any lifetime after that. This was a kiss with the calm, cool and collected Ootori Kyouya, who was kissing her like he wanted her, like he desired her. She could feel his tongue darting on her lips. Renge panicked for a moment. She had never french kissed anyone before, but the way Kyouya was kissing her, running his hands on her bare back and shoulders, she had absolutely zero resolve against him. She parted her lips and tried to respond to his tongue with the same enthusiasm he was giving her. He tasted of warm and sweet whiskey, smelled of chlorine and his signature rain-scented soap that she had grown accustomed to over the years.

His hands were moving.

Kyouya wrapped his arms around her waist, moving her slightly higher than his eye level. Her body was completely flush to his, heart to heart. Both her hands tangled into his hair, combing through it, anchoring his face against hers, as they continued to passionately kiss, surrounded by the cold water.

If she didn't have a new fresh breath of oxygen, she was going to pass out. Renge reluctantly pulled her face from his, her forehead pressed to his still. She tried not to gasp loudly for air, so she took a deep breath through her nose. Her hands dropped to grip his shoulders so that she floated at eye level with him once again.

He too was breathing heavily, his shoulders and chest rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. She had tried to calm her body down, to regulate her breathing, to cool down her skin, but Renge was having too much difficulty achieving that. Especially seeing how Kyouya was looking at her. He was gazing at her with those same dark, heated, lustful eyes he had at the Watanuki party. His eyes fell lower on her face to her lips. His hand reached for her face, cradling her chin, his thumb running along her lower lip. On impulse, she puckered her lips, kissing the pad of his thumb. His eyes immediately turned back to her eyes; his brow flinched and his lips slightly parted. Renge closed her eyes when she saw him leaning forward once more.

"Uh, excuse me. Sir? Miss? Are you alright?"

Renge gasped and tilted her head to briefly glance towards the direction of the voice but then immediately turned away. Renge felt like she was about to scream. Who the hell had the nerve to interrupt her hot, romance novel moment with Kyouya?!

She didn't seem to be the only one drowning in irritation. Kyouya let out a growl under his breath, took a moment and then turned to the man who called to them. "Excuse me," Kyouya smiled his cool, fake, cordial smile that made Renge shudder slightly. "The lady and I slipped. Is it possible for each of us to borrow a room for a bit, so that we may clean up?"

"Of course," the interrupting employee bowed his head, while cradling two large fluffy towels in his arms. "Right away. Do you need help getting out?"

"No, we're perfectly capable, thank you," Kyouya insisted, "just please leave the towels on that chair, close to the stairs, please."

The employee did as he was told, leaving the towels nearby. All the while, Renge didn't move, keeping her face buried in the crook of his neck, hands gripping his shoulders. She was still trying to recover and wrap her brain around what had just happened. Kyouya and she were heavily making out in a pool. The whole scene was like out of an American romantic movie. But… now what? Renge hesitated to look up at him.

"Perhaps we should get out of here," Kyouya suggested as he took hold of their once forgotten masks.

"Y-yeah," Renge's body moved automatically on its own. She pushed through the water, swimming through as much as her tight dress would allow. When Kyouya got to the stairs, he held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet. Once she fully emerged, water poured from her body, dripping down her sequined and crystal dress. "Kaoru and Hikaru are going to get upset," she said, standing on the top step of the pool.

"On the contrary. I think they would just laugh," he told her, all while draping a towel around her body over her shoulders. She clutched the ends to her chest, holding it in place, watching as Kyouya pulled his blazer off his body. It was difficult; the weight of the water made the fabric heavy and he struggled to pull his arms out of the confines of the cloth. When he finally managed to take the blazer off, it revealed the wet white shirt that was underneath, clinging to every line and muscle on his arms and chest. Renge averted her eyes for a moment.

The employee returned, accompanied with another. "Miss, your room is ready on the 4th floor. My colleague here, Minori, will escort you there. Please do not hesitate to ask if you need anything." He turned to Kyouya. "Sir, if you would follow me, I can show you to your room."

Renge looked up to see Kyouya, who… wasn't looking back at her. What was going on? She had confessed to him, and then… her cheeks started to blush. "Kyou-."

"Thank you," Kyouya addressed the employee and followed him.

Wait, was that it? She looked down to her feet, clutching the towel tighter around her shoulders.

"Renge."

She looked up, hearing Kyouya's voice call to her.

"I'll message you. Soon." He hid his face from view and continued to walk away.

* * *

There was no hope of Renge getting any sleep that night. Every moment through her day, she could feel Kyouya's lips and hands, phantom memories on her lips and skin. How he was a mix of tender and rough, subdued and earnest.

And frankly, it all thrilled her. Because she knew he was still holding back on her. There were times throughout the day just thinking about it, she would cover her smile and blush with her hands on her cheeks. Other times, she would lay back and squeal, kicking her feet around to release her pent-up excitement.

But what did it all mean? Did it mean they were dating? He said he would contact her but hours and hours passed, and soon it had been nearly two days since it happened. Renge was getting a little worried.

[Are you available for lunch tomorrow?] His message suddenly showed up while she was eating her dinner at home.

It had been exactly 48 hours since they kissed, but it wasn't like she was being neurotic about the time or anything… [Yes. Where would you like to meet?]

[Clover is fine.]

One of her favorite cafes. Renge smiled. [Clover it is. See you then.]

She had arrived the the cafe a few minutes after twelve. Renge had arrived first, and then was seated. She pulled out her phone and was about to lay it facedown on the table when her phone chimed. She looked at it and noticed it was an email from Kumiko. She opened it.

 _Another prospect for Ootori-san? Or maybe the new guy I interviewed yesterday?_

Hang on…? Renge rushed to open the text window with Kumiko. [Didn't Kyouya's contract expire already?]

Within a few seconds, she saw a response. [Yeah, but he filled one out again and emailed yesterday.]

He… what? Renge slumped into her chair. But he asked her out here to talk about the other night, right? Why would he…? What was happening? Was he… toying with her? Renge could see red.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Renge's vision jumped to the person in front of her. Cool, calm, collected, conniving Kyouya sat on the chair opposite to her on the two person table. "You…" she narrowed her eyes. She glanced down at her water glass, disappointed it was empty and not filled with water and ice to throw at him.

"...Yes?" Kyouya looked puzzled.

"You!" she exclaimed, slamming her fists on the table, causing the serviceware to jump. "How dare you show your face! After-after-," Renge took a deep breath, "Listen here, Ootori," she said his last name with an air of disdain, "I am more than just a pretty face and hot body for you to have a hot makeout session with in a pool!"

Kyouya's eyes slightly widened.

She continued, ignoring the stares around them. "So don't you dare think that's all I'm good for!"

"What brought this on?" he dared to ask.

"Kumiko said you renewed the contract!"

A look of understanding crossed Kyouya's eyes. "Ah, I see. Did you read the updated profile I sent with it?"

"And why would that matter, you two-timing… ERGH!" Renge huffed, feeling hot tears pooling in her eyes. She couldn't believe this had happened. She let herself feel happiness and elation. But never in her wildest dreams would she have thought he would play with her heart. What was this? Revenge?

No, don't cry here! Get angry, she told herself. It would be the only way to make sure she didn't cry in front of him.

"I suggest you read the new profile of the type of person I'm looking for," he remained relatively calm, considering she was yelling at him without any inhibitions.

"Well, you could just take that profile and… and… choke on it!" she jumped to her feet, throwing her cellphone in her purse. She had to get out of here; she could feel her resolve crumbling. "I'm giving your account to someone else, I hope to never-!"

Renge was about to walk away from the table, but Kyouya started speaking firmly and calmly. "64 inches tall. Slim frame. Japanese, but raised overseas in France. Dark blonde hair. Brown amber eyes."

Renge froze as he spoke. From what she could see, he was reading something off his phone. Was it the profile that he sent Kumiko?

"Domestic skills, non-applicable, although it's alright if she tends to be a better cook than baker. Business-sense, ideally, she would be working in an industry not related to mine, such as marketing and entertainment."

Was she hearing him right?

"Hobbies, just the typical: video games, drawing…" Kyouya flicked his thumb over the screen, scrolling through the text. "Traits: energetic with a wild imagination. To an outsider, they mistake it as unprofessional and free-spirited. However, what it really means is that she is passionate and creative, two things outside the norms of stuffy suits and cynical old men that occupy her environment." Kyouya stared at the screen, lips slightly parted. His brow flinched, as if he saw something on the screen, but hesitated to say it. Renge watched him gently sigh. "She's… been a friend for about a decade. First, she would have made the mistake of associating me with some idealistic fictional character, but then she would have gotten to know me. And… over time, I would like to think she would have accepted all my flaws. Perhaps my greatest flaw is that I'm not the type of man who can openly declare feelings or emotions. That if she were to read or hear this profile, she would understand that she's the one I always want beside me."

Did… did he just say…? Renge dropped her bag in shock, her purse falling to the floor near her feet with a thud.

Nearby patrons and waitstaff who were in earshot whispered to one another, wondering what was going on. Some had very amused expressions on their faces.

Kyouya glanced up at her thoughtfully, before placing his cell phone in his inner breast pocket. "What do you think?" he said, his voice stiff, as if trying to control it from shaking. "Can you find the one?"

"I… I have someone in mind," she said slowly, blushing from head to toe. She slowly lowered herself down on the chair, stumbling a little on her purse, feeling her head spin and twirl with his words replaying in her mind.

"Good…" he glanced down at the menu before him. "Do you think she is available tomorrow night?"

Renge's eyes widened and her brain kick-started. He was asking her out! She jumped for her purse, scrambling to find her phone. When she did, she opened up her schedule. "Oh. A date observation. How about Saturday?"

He shook his head. "I'm on-call all weekend."

"Oh." Renge's shoulders fell in disappointment. And then, an idea popped in her head. "I could bring you dinner, if you like?"

"Thank you, that would be nice."

Renge smiled and opened her menu up. She tapped her feet on one of the table legs, excitement pouring out of her in short bursts. After all this time, waiting, wondering, getting frustrated, crying… Wait. An idea popped into her mind. "Neh, Kyouya? The woman you were talking about is me, right?"

He glanced up at her and then back down to his menu, eyeglasses gleamed opaque. "Yes, Renge. It's you."

She smiled, eyes returning to the menu. "Okay. Good. Just making sure." She pressed her lips together, unable to hide the smile plastered on her face. She didn't even notice the flush creeping up on his neck and cheeks; he lifted his menu higher to obscure his face.

Owari/Fin/The End.


End file.
